


oh me of little faith

by constellationrose



Series: Avery Trevelyan (reconciliation) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - In Your Heart Shall Burn, Prayer, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellationrose/pseuds/constellationrose
Summary: Avery Trevelyan lost their religion when they were taken to the Ostwick Circle. After settling in at Skyhold, they take some time alone to rethink that.
Series: Avery Trevelyan (reconciliation) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017244





	oh me of little faith

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've had moving inspiration for in years. I'm having a lot of internal religious conflict right now, so this is kind of an exploration of that. I'm expecting... 2-3 more installments in this series. Let me know if you see any HTML errors or inconsistencies in verb tenses or pronouns, I caught a few myself. Series playlist [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLEK6rL-A6if1Cz5DE_cVwIiFJxuMY1iO5) on YouTube. Strong religious/Christian themes.

The night was dark and quiet, and Skyhold’s garden deserted. Avery Trevelyan knelt before the statue of Andraste in the room off the garden. They stared at its base, hands folded and Anchor calm, unsure where to begin or what to say. 

They hadn’t kept up with their prayers in years, had lost their faith in loving Andraste long ago, when their magic came in. They’d attended services here and there, said a prayer every once in awhile, just to keep up the act, avoid accusations of blood magic. But it had been a long time since they’d come to Her honestly. After Haven - Roderick - they thought maybe they were ready to come back. 

“I don’t - I don’t know if you’re listening,” Avery began, haltingly. “I didn’t think you listened to mages. Dorian says that the Vints think you _were_ a mage, and Hawke says Anders still prays, and _he_ blew up a Chantry, so… I think if you listen to Anders, you’d probably listen to me.” 

They shifted on their knees. 

“I guess I’m here because I wanted to ask what _you_ thought about this whole business. I - Cole said, Roderick, at the end, he believed. Out of everyone… I was just going along with things because Cassandra and Leliana were getting things done, and I could close the rifts. I didn’t think I was - Chosen, or anything, just… chance. I didn’t think you’d choose a mage. I didn’t think you’d choose _anyone_. But… Roderick. And…” 

Avery bit their lip and looked up at the statue. “There’s no way I should have survived that avalanche. I should have died. I was ready to die." 

They tore their gaze away and looked down at their knees. 

“But I’m not dead,” they said. “I’m here. We made it all the way to Skyhold. They made me Inquisitor. And - we’re _thriving_. None of it feels real. I don’t _want_ it to be real. I feel like Sera - if _this_ is real - and Corypheus, and _you_ \- what am I _doing_? What - what do you _want_ me to do? I mean - I can close rifts, I can do that, but I mean, we got the freaky one in Redcliffe, and we got the Breach, so - just - after that? After I’m done with the rifts? 

“And - and they keep asking me to - make all these big decisions. I freed the mages, I said they could govern themselves. The Circles weren’t working, I felt like something had to change. But - there’s no _way_ you would have okayed that. Out of everything I know about you, that’s - come on, I mean, the Circles didn’t work, but we don’t want to become _Tevinter_. Even I think that’s fucked up. 

“But. 

“Dorian says they think you were a mage. 

“So. Maybe even if Tevinter’s system is bad… Maybe you didn’t actually mean, like, for us to become prisoners.” 

Avery breathed in slowly, and breathed deeply in and out, thinking about that. They closed their eyes and breathed out. 

“I could. I could live with that. If that’s what you meant. If you didn’t - if you just didn’t like how Tevinter was doing things. And you wanted - just for us to be able to live together. With everybody safe. I could live with that. I could live with - us. You. And me. I could live with myself, if that’s what it was about. _Is_ about.” 

They opened their eyes, looked up. The stone stood before them, cold and unresponsive and unmoved. They blinked and coughed out a laugh, sheepish. 

“I don’t know what I expected,” they murmured to themself. “Who knows, I guess. Maybe you really did hate mages and wanted us all to just die, just like I always thought. And-” They glanced towards the statue’s face, glaring just a little. “We didn’t cover the elves or the dwarves or the Qunari, either. Bull’s not really an issue, but Varric is, and Sera. Not to mention - _Cole_ ,” they gasped. _That_ was a whole separate, complicated issue they were far too tired to think about. 

They sighed. “Anyways…” Again, they realized the foolishness of talking to, and expecting some kind of answer from, a statue. They pushed themselves up and rose to their feet, dusting off their knees. Giving Andraste one last glance, they sighed again in resignation. 

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” they promised quietly. 

It was late, and they truly should have been in bed - the trip to Crestwood would come early in the morning - but their mind still refused to settle, so they slipped up the garden stairs and out onto the battlements, looking over their keep and out to the world below. 

The Herald’s Rest still had lights on, but was quiet. It was late enough that most everyone was in their beds, save a few sentries, people making last-minute preparations for journeys the next day, and a few of Leliana’s people flitting about. 

Their discussion with Cullen earlier that week came to mind, and their discussion with Hawke that morning. Their eyes traveled from one end of Skyhold to the other, around its vast expanse. 

Haven had been home, for those few terrifying months. After losing everything - again - and not knowing what was happening, with their hand suddenly glowing green and a giant hole in the sky that spat out demons - on top of destroying the only hope they’d had for peace… Haven had been home. It had been small, though, and fragile, many of the buildings quickly cobbled together to house those who had survived - or responded to - the explosion at the Conclave. 

And even more quickly than it had risen up, it had been destroyed. Everything lost, yet again; another new start. But they weren’t starting from nothing this time. The Inquisition had Avery, and the War Council, and everyone that had survived Haven - many people, thanks to Roderick, and thanks to Cullen’s avalanche strategy. 

Thanks to Andraste, maybe. 

And they had Skyhold - thanks to Solas. 

A massive, solid fortress; empty; waiting. And forgotten, apparently, but for one wandering, lonesome elven apostate. The timing of the move couldn’t have been more fortuitous; with the addition of the mages, Haven had been bursting at the seams. It seemed like a miracle. Skyhold nearly pulsed with energy, now, alive with the breath of the hundreds of people who had moved in. Hundreds of people who had called upon Avery to lead them to victory against - whatever the hell Corypheus was. And against everything else as well, it seemed. 

That was - too big to think about. 

Avery mused, glancing down to the stables where Blackwall had nested; to the basement of the Hall, where Varric had settled; and to the library tower, where Solas had constructed a loft. They would be accompanying Avery to investigate Crestwood. Fighting man, demon, beast, and blight alike - Avery hoped Hawke’s Warden would have answers for them. 

Mind settled on the next day’s journey, Avery slipped back to the Hall and set to searching for a copy of Hard in Hightown to read at the base of Solas’s scaffold. They wouldn’t be sleeping that night, but they didn’t have to be alone.


End file.
